


innocent

by chewhy



Series: haikyuu angst week 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewhy/pseuds/chewhy
Summary: “Can the two of you shut up already?” Tanaka’s voice comes drifting down the hall. “Some of us are actually trying to get some sleep.”“Ah, my bad, baldie,” Kuroo singsongs, but he falls silent after that anyway.Tsukishima just sighs and pulls his blanket up closer to his chin. It’s always a little bit too cold in here, but the blankets either never cover his shoulders or never reach his feet. With only the mildewed spots on the ceiling to keep him company, he’s just barely drifted off to sleep when he hears a soft voice carry through the wall.“Goodnight, Tsukki.”for haikyuu angst week day 7: goodbyes
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Series: haikyuu angst week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996960
Comments: 16
Kudos: 46
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	innocent

**Author's Note:**

> i think this is a little late oops

“Cheeseburgers.”

“A triple decker club sandwich.”

“Fried chicken. All legs.”

“All legs? I’d eat wings too. And a cold beer, now that’d kill.”

“Careful where you drop the k-word. Wouldn’t want the warden moving you to max security.”

“Shut up.”

“...”

“Risotto. With meat. Beef. Lamb. Shrimp. Scallops. Fancy shit.”

“Popeye’s spicy chicken sandwich.”

“Filet mignon. Medium rare.”

“Oh, good one. A McFlurry.”

“Lobster.”

“Mangoes. Why are your tastes all so expensive?”

“Whatever. Fucking, I don’t know. Pocky, then.”

“I’m pretty sure you can get that at the commissary.”

“No, I mean like the flavored ones. You know, like cookies and cream, green tea. Yeah, the good stuff.”

“Okay, valid.”

“Ramen with actual boiling water and not the lukewarm shit they pass around.”

“Fish.”

“Fish? Why the hell do you want fish for, what are you, some old man?”

“Shut up!” There’s a soft rustling before a palm slams against the wall between them. “Fish have great omega 3 fatty acids, they keep you healthy and strong.”

“Yeah, sure buddy.”

“Okay, fine then,” the voice comes back after a moment of silence. “What about you? What’s that ultimate food you’d want to eat?”

The silence stretches between them for a moment as he thinks before he turns onto his side and smiles. “Strawberries. Fresh strawberries.”

There’s a snort, and then a chuckle before it turns into a full blown laugh. “Seriously? Didn’t expect that from such a prickly guy like you, Tsukki.”

“Shut up. The fuck did you expect, then?” Tsukishima grouses. He curls up a little more, as if that’ll do anything to quell the grumbling in his stomach. 

“I don’t know,” Kuroo’s voice comes back over the wall. “Anything but  _ that _ . Tell you what, when we get out of here I’ll buy you–”

“Can the two of you shut  _ up _ already?” Tanaka’s voice comes drifting down the hall. “Some of us are actually trying to get some sleep.”

“Ah, my bad, baldie,” Kuroo singsongs, but he falls silent after that anyway. 

Tsukishima just sighs and pulls his blanket up closer to his chin. It’s always a little bit too cold in here, but the blankets either never cover his shoulders or never reach his feet. With only the mildewed spots on the ceiling to keep him company, he’s just barely drifted off to sleep when he hears a soft voice carry through the wall. 

“Goodnight, Tsukki.”

–

“Oy, four eyes!” 

Tsukishima blinks his eyes open, squinting up into the sunlight. “The hell do you want, Kuroo.”

“What, are you on your period or something?” Kuroo laughs, jabbing at Tsukishima’s side. “Come on, walk with me. It’ll be like a date, we can even hold hands.”

Tsukishima makes a face, but finds himself standing anyways. They make laps around the courtyard in silence. 

It’s… calming. 

He doesn’t even remember anymore when it became a routine for them. Make circles around the yard, stop under the camera blindspot for a quick smoke and then… 

“God, I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Kuroo whispers against Tsukishima’s neck. 

“Shit, stop,” Tsukishima says, even as he pulls him closer. “That fucking tickles, asshole.”

Tsukishima always hated the cold. But he finds himself making his way out into the courtyard even in winter just to feel the burn of Kuroo’s hands trailing up his sides. 

“God, when we get out of here, you don’t know what I’ll do to you. I’ll take you to a nice hotel–”

“Shut the hell up and just kiss me,” Tsukishima groans, moving to cover Kuroo’s lips with his own. It tastes like stale cigarettes in between each gasp of sharp winter air he takes. 

“Inmates, step away from each other,” a voice called, accompanied by a rattle as the officer drags his baton across the chain link fence. 

“Aw, come on, Daichi, no need to be like that,” Kuroo says with a smile, even as he peels himself away from Tsukishima. He bares his teeth as he clutches at the gaps between the fence. “You know how it is.”

“That’s Officer Sawamura to you. Break time’s over, get back inside,” he says, turning away stiffly and walking away. 

“Well,” Kuroo says, turning back to Tsukishima. “You heard him.” He presses a kiss to Tsukishima’s forehead before walking away, leaving Tuskishima to watch him go. 

He lifts a hand to his forehead, fingers lingering where Kuroo’s lips had brushed. 

Soft, for a criminal. 

–

_ “Fuck,” Tsukishima grunts, bending over to cough. There’s the taste of metal in his mouth, and the ground in front of him splatters with streaks of blood. “You fuckers.” _

_ “Why, got a problem, newbie?” the guy bends down, gripping Tsukishima’s chin until his fingers are digging in. It’ll probably bruise, but that doesn’t stop him. “This is just our welcoming ceremony. You don’t like it?” _

_ Tsukishima growls and spits in his face. “Fuck you.” _

_ “Ah, shit,” he groans as he stands up, wiping at his face. “You just got blood on my shirt.” He tilts his head, calling his lackeys forward. “Looks like our new friend didn’t quite like his… welcome gift. We’ll just have to give him something else then.” _

_ “Get your hands off me!” Tsukishima grunts, struggling at the arms that grab him on either side. He feels hands clawing at his waistband and kicks harder, frantic now as he searches for a way out, but he knows help won’t come. Not here, in this deserted hallway. Not after he watched the guards deliberately walk away. “You fucking bastards.” _

_ He can feel a hand sliding against his stomach when a voice rings out down the hall.  _

_ “Quiet down, will ya? A man’s trying to catch up on his beauty sleep.”  _

_ All four of the inmates freeze before dropping Tsukishima into a pile on the floor as they line up against the wall, head bowed.  _

_ “Kuroo…”  _

_ “I don’t particularly care to hear it, Daishou,” the guy, Kuroo, says, raising a hand. He stops in front of Tsukishima, kneeling down next to him with a smile. “Hey, are you okay?” _

_ Tsukishima, still shaking, tries to stand and pull up his pants that have fallen to his knees, only to stumble and slide back down the wall. “Fuck off,” he manages to get out anyway, voice hoarse now that the adrenaline is wearing off.  _

_ Kuroo tilts his head, looking down at him before shrugging and stands back up, both hands raised in front of him. “Hey, no worries. I won’t touch you.” Turning back to the other four, he frowns. “Daishou. Don’t touch him. And hey,” he continues, poking at Tsukishima’s knee with one foot. Tsukishima can barely raise his head enough to look at him. “Come find me later,” he says with that smile back on his face. “I’ll show you the good smoke spots.” _

– 

“You know, you never said what you got in for,” Tsukishima finds himself asking one day. 

“After all these months, you suddenly want to know?” Kuroo asks. He still has that disgustingly fake smile plastered across his face. It only seems to grow wider. “And what about you? What got you in? Gambling? Drugs? Assault? Murder?”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “This and that. Typical delinquent shit. You know how it is.”

Kuroo pauses, then laughs. “Actually,” he says, turning to Tsukishima and holding his chin in one hand. “I don’t know.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Tsukishima asks, frowning at Kuroo. He prods at the mystery meatloaf on his tray and sighs, pushing it away. 

“I’m innocent.”

Tsukishima squints. “You’re joking?” Kuroo still has that smile frozen across his face. 

Kuroo shrugs. “Maybe.”

–

There’s rumors. There are definitely rumors that follow him around, but Tsukishima has no way to make heads or tails of any of them. 

Arson. “He’s always had a fiery temper, don’t you think? And don’t you see the way he plays with matches when the guards aren’t looking?” 

Murder. “That smile just  _ screams _ psychopath to you, doesn’t it?”

Mafia. “Okay, but come on. Imagine him in a suit, it’s kind of a sexy image.” “Seriously? That’s your reason?”

Fraud. “Slick words, slick smile. I always hated that greasy bastard.”

International war criminal and or spy. “What? Where the hell did that one even come from?” “I heard him speak Japanese once.” “We  _ all _ speak Japanese, you idiot.”

None of it seems real. The more Tsukishima hears, the more he wonders if maybe… Kuroo was telling the truth. 

– 

“Ahh, fuck,” Tsukishima grunts, biting at Kuroo’s shoulder. 

“Shhh, shh,” he whispers, carding his fingers through Tsukishima’s hair. “Any louder and God himself might hear you.”

“Fuck you,” Tsukishima groans through clenched teeth, even as he relishes in the press of Kuroo’s body against his. “You’re the one who thought we should fuck in the chapel.” The wooden pews don’t exactly make the most comfortable bed and a more moral person might feel guilty about the thought of a bible pressing into their back while committing probably a thousand sins, but that doesn’t stop Tsukishima from grinding down harder. 

“Ah but you like it,” Kuroo answers. It irks Tsukishima how he manages to stay so unbothered, even when they’re fucking but he never really has time to linger on those thoughts when they’re together. 

“Shit, just shut up and–” Tsukishima chokes on his words before he can finish as Kuroo thrusts deeper, nibbling at Tsukishima’s jaw. 

“Shut up and what, Tsukki?” His hand traces down Tsukishima’s sides and he shivers even as it burns. “Tell me.”

“You bastard, I’ll–”

Another roll of the hips, and this one has Tsukishima seeing stars as he bites his lip to keep from crying out. Seeing this, Kuroo smiles, wrapping one hand around him with ease as he whispers, “Good boy. Wouldn’t want somebody walking in now, would we?”

“I hate you,” Tsukishima lets out in a strained whisper, even as he presses forward to capture Kuroo’s lips in his. 

Who is he to reject the devil when sin is so delicious?

– 

Later, when they’re lying between the pews, sweat drying on their bodies, Kuroo turns to look at Tsukishima. His hand is still curled in his hair, slowly scratching at his scalp. 

“What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“Did? Seems a little pessimistic. That’s usually my role,” Tsukishima answers, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Oh, you know what I meant,” Kuroo says, waving a hand absentmindedly. 

“I don’t know, something with dinosaurs?”

“Dinosaurs?” Kuroo asks, reaching over to take Tsukishima’s glasses and try them on. “Well, you sure look the part, nerd. Damn, you’re blind.”

“Fuck you,” Tsukishima says, smacking the back of Kuroo’s palm to take them back. His glasses go back on his face while their hands stay linked. “What about you, anyway?”

Kuroo pauses, lifting up their interlocked fingers as he turns them this way, then that. “A pharmacist.”

“Yeah?” Tsukishima asks. “Fucking, CVS or something?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says with a shrug. He’s silent before he turns to look at Tsukishima with a smile. “That’s why I did it, you know.”

“Did what?” Tsukishima asks with a frown. He doesn’t know if he really even wants to know the answer. 

“Poisoned them.”

– 

“Shit. Fuck. Shit.”

His breathing comes in heavy pants and he struggles to even let his body slide down the wall, sharp splinters of wood digging in as he goes. 

“Hey, Tsukki! I was– Tsukki! What’s wrong, are you okay? Hey, listen to me.”

He hears Kuroo’s voice filter in slowly through the ringing. Burning fingers grasp his wrists and Tsukishima lifts his head up from his knees as his eyes come into focus on Kuroo’s face. 

He stares at Kuroo’s lips as they form words he can’t make sense of until finally…

“– and out, in and out, shh it’s okay, you can do this.” 

Once he can breathe enough to speak again, Tsukishima gasps, “I need, fuck, I need–”

“Shh,” Kuroo hushs, tugging him closer. The concrete floor is cold against his bare feet, but Kuroo’s hands are warm against his back. “It’s okay, you’ll get through this.”

“No shut up,” Tsukishima growls, struggling against Kuroo’s hold. “I need the fuckin, give me my, shit shit  _ shit _ .” He fucking hates the way his hands tremble, the way he feels like there’s nothing going for him except artificial highs and his parent’s disappointment. 

But for now, he only has Kuroo’s eyes staring back into his, Kuroo’s hands gripping his wrists, Kuroo’s knees pressed against his sides. 

He doesn’t know which is more addictive, but it’s obvious which is more dangerous. 

– 

“I’ll see you, then? You better come visit. Put some nice coin in my commissary while you’re out there, yeah?” Kuroo says, reaching forward to brush a strand of hair off of Tsukishima’s forehead. 

“Right, yeah,” Tsukishima snorts, even as he lets himself lean forward into Kuroo’s embrace. “As if an ex-felon’s gonna have job offers lined up for him.”

Kuroo shrugs, but the smile doesn’t drop from his face. “Who knows. Maybe you can go back to dealing.”

Tsukishima just lies there, Kuroo’s long legs tangled with his. 

It isn’t until later that Kuroo speaks up again. 

“I was joking, by the way.”

“What?” Tsukishima asks. 

“Don’t. Don’t go back to dealing. Stay clean, Tsukki. Don’t get into trouble, stay out of this shithole, yeah?”

“Okay, okay,” Tsukishima answers. “What are you, my mom?” Kuroo doesn’t answer, just hugs him tighter and presses his ear against Tsukishima’s chest. 

His real mom hasn’t spoken to him in years, not since the first time he fucked up. Not since her darling, straight A son fell off the rails and got into drugs and gambling and fighting strangers on the streets. Although, maybe if she had… none of this would have been an issue. 

He presses his lips to Kuroo’s forehead. “I won’t,” he whispers, even though he can tell Kuroo’s fallen asleep, measured by the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

Then again, if she had… he would have never met Kuroo. 

“I promise.”

–

“So,” Kuroo says. 

“So.”

“Don’t copy me, brat,” Kuroo laughs, cuffing Tsukishima uptop the head. 

Tsukishima stares up at the ceiling. There are new mildew stains that he’s never noticed before. 

“What are you gonna do tomorrow, when you’re out of here?”

Tsukishima snorts. “Probably sleep. Maybe I’ll play a video game. I’ve missed those.”

“Yeah? Like what, League?” Kuroo asks. His fingers trace random patterns through the cotton of Tsukishima’s shirt. If he strains, they might even form letters but he’s always been too scared to know what it means. 

“Figures you’d be the type of guy to play League,” Tsukishima answers instead, cupping Kuroo’s hand in his. 

“Hey, you asshole. League is plenty of fun, I bet you’re just shit at it,” Kuroo retorts. “You know what, I’ll play you. When I – when I get out of here, I’ll…” for maybe the first time, Kuroo’s voice cracks on the words and the two of them peter off into silence. 

It’s only as Tsukishima is about to stand and head out of the room that Kuroo finally speaks up again. 

“Once you’re out… You’ll visit, yeah?”

Tsukishima swallows, throat dry as he answers, “Of course. I wouldn’t want you forgetting my handsome face.”

Kuroo laughs at that and leans over to wrap his arms around Tsukishima. “I’d never forget,” he says, breathing in Tsukishima’s scent. “This is just in case I don’t see you tomorrow, but goodbye.”

“You say that like we’ll never see each other again,” Tsukishima grunts, but wraps his arms around Kuroo’s back anyways. 

“Yeah, I know. Still.”

They know they’re both lying. 

– 

“Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi cries against his shoulder, holding him tight like it’s the last he’ll ever see of him. “God, I missed you so much.”

Tsukishima stands there before hesitantly lifting his hands to pat Yamaguchi’s shoulder blades. “Right. Sorry.”

“Come on,” he says, tugging Tsukishima’s hand as he guides them through the parking lot. “I’ve set up an air mattress so you can stay with me for however long you need until you get an apartment. And if I’ve been in contact with a few friends who are looking to hire, so as soon as you settle in I can put you in touch with them.”

“Okay,” Tsukishima says, staring at his knees as he buckles in. His breath comes out in a cloud of vapor in the chill of the car. 

Yamaguchi stops then, leaning over to rest a hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder. “Promise me you won’t come back here, ever again.”

Tsukishima swallows, staring back out the window at the bleak gray walls of the prison. He’s not sure how he’d managed to call that place home for so long. Looking from the outside in, it truly looks like hell. 

“I promise.”

–

“He’ll come back and visit. I know he will.”

“Kuroo,” Daishou says, stubbing out the butt of his cigarette against the brick. “If he were going to visit, he would have done so four months ago.”

Kuroo shrugs, refusing to make eye contact. “You know Tsukki. He’s always been pretty slow.”

Tanaka just throws him a glance and then sighs, rubbing his head in frustration as he walks away. “Talk some sense into him, won’t you?” he says, addressing Daishou. “If it were me, I wouldn’t fucking come back to this shithole either.” 

They all ignore the fact that he still calls Shimizu every day, begs her to come forgive him, take him back, he’s changed, please. 

“Move on,” Daishou says finally, standing to turn and follow Tanaka back inside. “I did.”

Kuroo shakes his head, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails form little indents against his palms. 

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t come see me. I’ll meet him later when I get out.”

–

“Hey, did you hear?”

Tsukishima frowns and tries to concentrate on his work but his coworkers, as always, only ever seem to stand around and gossip. 

“Remember that guy from, what, it must have been more than ten years ago now,” Hinata says as the others crowd over his shoulder to read the article he’s pulled up. “He killed both his parents, although apparently he still claimed he was innocent through the whole trial. They finally executed him this morning, by hanging.”

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice asks from beside him. 

“What?” Tsukishima asks, looking up to see Sugawara’s concerned face. Looking back down, he realizes that he’d gripped his pen so hard it shattered in his fist, leaving ink blots all over his page. “Right, sorry,” he answers in a shaky voice. “I’m fine.”

Tsukishima plasters on a fake smile until Sugawara is nodding and walking away. 

It’s nothing to get worked up over. Things end. People move on. 

Tsukishima made a lot of promises. He kept one - one he made to himself. That’s all that matters. 

–

_ Kuroo Tetsuro _

_ Age: 32 _

_ Convicted of two counts of murder, sentenced to hanging.  _

_ Last meal: strawberries.  _

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: when we get out
> 
> i kind of want to rewrite this as like an actual longer fic with plot and real information about what happened to tsukki and kuroo and everything in between, so i might revisit this someday
> 
> find me on [[twitter (ch3w2)](https://twitter.com/ch3w2)] and [[tumblr (ch3w2)](http://ch3w2.tumblr.com/)]!  
>  **kudos and comments always appreciated!!!**
> 
> my carrd is [ch3w2.carrd.co](https://ch3w2.carrd.co/) for more information about requests


End file.
